Force of Habit
by Terrified of Logic
Summary: Sebastian told himself it was only temporary. But demons have always been good at lying, even to themselves.


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_Force of Habit_

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Candlelight flickered against the worn, white walls, casting ominous shadows that danced across flat surfaces, playing tricks on the eye. Sebastian set a plate down at the desk located in the far corner of the room beside a bed that had already been turned down for the night.

"The contract is almost fulfilled." He murmured to himself, tracing the black mark on his hand subconsciously.

Black hair grew and lengthened till the ends were just barely sweeping his jawline, the air seemed to shimmer around him and in a blink of an eye he was slipping himself into a finely tailored black jacket complete with tails. For a final touch, he reached into his pocket and slid his hands into familiar, white cotton gloves.

At last, he turned to face the figure on the bed, who had been waiting his return obediently and smiled at him. Sebastian crossed the room silently and bent over the boy.

"Your hair has grown quite long, hasn't it? I think it's time for a cut. What do you think?" He brushed a hand across the boy's face gently, moving the long fringe out of the way. Glassy eyes stared back at him, barely blinking, mouth set in an almost sombre expression.

Sebastian didn't wait for an answer, pulling out the desk chair he set it in the middle of the room.

"Come, my Lord." He held the boy's hand to brace him as he stood up, guiding him to the little wooden chair. He draped a sheet around the boy's front to prevent the hairs from sticking to his trim blazer and shorts.

_Snip. Snip. Snip._

The methodical sounds of metal grazing through hair echoed around the small, windowless room. Sebastian couldn't help but run his fingers through the soft, silky ashen hair, something he used to do all the time when the Young Master was in a good mood. The faint aroma of floral shampoo reached his keen nose, traces of chocolate and cinnamon weaving in and out of the heady scent. Or was he merely imagining it?

_Snip. Snip. Snip._

Hair fell to the floor, scattering as it landed on the sheet and skated down to the floor gracefully, collecting around the boy's feet. For once the boy was still, head facing forward the entire time without reminder. Sebastian worked quietly, lifting strands of hair, thinning some out and styling the hair into something more presentable. Eventually, he lifted the white sheet, dusting some stray cuttings on to the worn flooring.

"I've brought dessert, Young Master. Your favourite chocolate gateau. Will you be eating it after your bath or right away?" The sombre mouth didn't reply. "...Of course, my Lord."

He picked up the plate that he left earlier on the desk, along with a gleaming silver fork. Sinking down to one knee, he knelt in front of the boy, plate in one hand. He cut off and speared a small piece of cake, dipping the edge in some cream before holding it up to his master's mouth which opened up unhurriedly. Sebastian watched as small, pink lips closed around the metal tines of the fork as he withdrew the silverware. Blue eyes stared unseeingly at a patch of wall behind him, as the boy began to chew his bite slowly.

Sebastian's hand shook as he cut off another manageable slice. He didn't know why his hand was shaking, he couldn't explain it if he tried. Demons did not shake. Perhaps, it was because he was waiting for his master to tell him that today's dessert was merely 'passable' in that gruff tone of his, that he'd gotten too much hair stuck around his collar and it was itching at him or even to demand that he stop feeding him like he was a child because that was embarrassing and he was quite capable of doing it himself. But no such comment passed those chocolate stained lips as they continued to receive his offerings until there was nothing left on the plate but a decorative mint leaf.

He carried on with forced patience, fetching a nightshirt from the ornamentative trunk that held the very few possessions that the demon carried around with himself. Shaking it out with precision, he began to undress the boy swiftly and efficiently. Jackets, waistcoats, shirts were all unbuttoned and folded to the side. Shorts were eased off, stockings unrolled and buckles and snaps undone. Sebastian forced himself to avoid the blank stare, wine red eyes only focussing on buttoning down the nightshirt, tying a ribbon around his master's slim, delicate neck perfectly, as only a butler of the Phantomhive household should.

But after everything was finally done and dusted, and there was truly nothing else he could do, he couldn't help himself. His tumultuous thoughts crashed into one another. Sebastian clenched his teeth together and gripped one of the boy's arms. It should have been painful, bruises would be forming soon, but the boy neither cared nor showed any signs of discomfort.

"Won't you say something, Young Master?" Sebastian whispered harshly, his breathing becoming a fraction heavier as he stared into those lifeless, dark blue eyes. If he looked closely, he thought he could see an imprint of a pentagram etched into that large, right eye, but none existed.

_Why?_ A voice scolded him harshly. Because… Because… the demon couldn't find an answer to that question. It was principle, naturally. Demons lived by principle, that was their own rule and way of living. It was… it was… he searched for the answer in his Master's impassive face. He had lived for thousands of years but his shrewd, thorough knowledge of human beings lent him no help in trying to find his answer. _Tell me how you managed to ensnare me, when it was supposed to be the other way around._

It was supposed to have been cheap entertainment to pass time, watching the boy charge blindly into his self-proclaimed depravity with his aid. It _had_ been entertaining. His little master was by far the most interesting contracter he had ever bothered to encounter, reminding him of just why he thought human beings were fascinating. The boy's cold, ruthless outlook on the world had sent shivers down the demon's spine. Never had he seen such eyes, devoid of all hope and joy, only filled with desolation and grim determination. He'd never seen another thing as broken and damaged, yet so satisfyingly fulfilled in all the wrong ways. He'd carried out the boy's dirty work dutifully, in every possible meaning of the phrase and had even gone as far as to feel the need to please his master. It was supposed to have just been entertainment. A way to idle the hours away, but the time had passed too quickly, just as he knew it would.

_Fool!_ That familiar, childish voice screamed at him from the back of his mind. _You utter, complete, damn fool!_

"It's true... I am...I am one hell of a foolish…" He couldn't continue, voice petering out. His hand loosened it's grip on the slender arm and slid down to grasp at the little bony hand there.

He remembered the boy screaming, even though he swore he wouldn't as he lay on the cold, stone bench. All remaining pride left the boy as Sebastian dug into the soul he had cultivated and coveted for over three years. It had been delicious, it had been beautiful but no one told Sebastian how horrifyingly painful it would be for both parties. The boy's dying screams and final order to devour his soul in the most brutal way possible echoed and rang in his ears incessantly. Little nails scratched at his front- trying to claw him away by natural instinct, as he bent down further to rip the boy's essence to pieces. The boy had screamed like he was being burnt by hellfire, but never once did he beg for his life and Sebastian was thankful for that. The pain that was threatening to cripple his being was bad enough without him having to question his principles as a demon. But never had he experienced such agony as he fed, it was almost like he had been ripping _himself_ into pieces as he choked down the remains of his master's soul reluctantly. _Till the very last drop._

In his entire lifetime, feeding over ten thousands of souls, not once had he felt pain as excruciating as this.

He thought the stressful ordeal would never end. He hunched over the small body, expelling rough, ragged breaths as the last of the sinful flavour melted away on his tongue, like the ice cream the Young Master was so fond of in the summer heat. He stared at the unmoving shell of what remained of Ciel Phantomhive. The unfamiliar feeling of emptiness overwhelmed him as he stared down at the now peaceful face. _No more? No more…?_

Masses and masses of feathers started billowing out of him, in torrential waves, creating a raging storm of black. Red eyes glowed furiously, fangs slashing at the air and the most demonic howl resonated around the barren island. Inhuman shrieks that could shatter glass echoed and reverberated over broken stone and a murder of crows joined the despondent call enthusiastically. Any wild beast would have recognised the anguished howl as a call of loss. It had seemed like the devilish sounds would last an eternity, but eventually silence descended, weighing the demon down heavily. That was his only reasonable, logical explanation for placing his head against his master's thin, soulless chest. They said demons didn't cry and it was true. Try as he might, his eyes remained dry as he buried his face in the boy's stomach. How he wished he knew how to cry, to let out the confusion of feelings that were building up within him.

Sebastian found himself in a similar position yet again, head placed on the boy's lap like a dog might to his Master.

Lifting his head up, he stood up slowly, brushing himself off and straightening out his jacket.

It had seemed only natural at the time.

The boy could have been sleeping. He could have easily passed for sleeping.

He told himself at the time that it was because he couldn't bear to imagine another demon possessing the boy's body other than him. The boy was his, ever since he had called out to him from the deepest, darkest recesses of his despair. Demons and ghouls alike could possess soulless bodies to wreak havoc and play dirty tricks on mortals and the thought disgusted Sebastian.

He told himself that it was only temporary, till he deposited the body in a safer place.

Sebastian coughed, clearing his throat.

"Tomorrow's schedule is as follows, morning classes cancelled, afternoon meetings cancelled and all evening plans cancelled until further notice. I hope that is satisfactory, Young Master."

Ciel looked on blankly, seeing nor hearing what the demon had just said.

Sebastian swallowed.

It was just force of habit, that's all.

Force of habit.

_fin._

* * *

_I recently read this really sad piece about Sebastian taking Ciel's soul and it hurt me so much inside. I can't imagine the two of them being apart, I can't bear to think of their tragic ending. So... I found a way to keep them together, even when death may do them part. But who knows if they'd still end up happy. While I wrote this fic, I kept just imagining Sebastian dressing, feeding and talking to Ciel as if he were alive and I just-_


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